


the little shop that sells doors

by lazy_kitkat



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Minecraft Youtubers (Video Blogging RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Friendship, Gen, Moving Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:41:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26746063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazy_kitkat/pseuds/lazy_kitkat
Summary: “W-what is this place?” He asked quietly, holding himself closer together due to the cold.“It’s a door shop,” The worker gave him a lazy smile, “Here, you should really try a boomberry. We just had them picked. Unless you’d rather a wurpleberry?”“The man in the stupid bucket hat said not to,” Tommy stared at the berries cautiously, as if they would come to life and jump at him at any moment, “I’d rather not turn into a table or something.”“Nah, Phil is just a killjoy,” The other man, Wilbur if he remembered properly, waved him off, “It won’t turn you into a table, promise.”“Well why should I trust you?” He snarked as the other’s grin twisted into something more devious.“Well why should you trust Phil? We’re both equal strangers to you, aren’t we?” The taller man hummed, tapping away at a typewriter that made flute noises with each button, “Unless you’re chicken?”(In which Tommy moves to this dreary, small town and finds a door shop.)
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 43
Kudos: 793
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	the little shop that sells doors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [unrequited_heartbreak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unrequited_heartbreak/gifts), [MKYouth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MKYouth/gifts).



> Quick reminder, if Dream Team or anyone in my fics express that fanfiction makes them uncomfortable and they’d rather it not be published, I will take this down.
> 
> Other than that, enjoy~

His mother said this would be fun, that this would be a great adventure but in hindsight, Tommy should have known better than to trust her.

He was in a new uniform, stiff on his shoulders and his shoes had come out of their box for the first time after they had bought them. He looked stupid with his own hair swept to the side in a way it never was before and the new cloth itched against his skin. He followed another lady who pushed her square glasses back into focus and wore the ugliest cardigan he had ever seen through monotone hallways. The lockers were dirty, some of them dented and not closing properly and he was sure that the air-conditioning was broken as it whirred erratically and made the air stuffier than it needed to be. His eyes looked over the graffiti on the washed green walls, crude messages that really weren’t that funny and he clicked his tongue.

He didn’t want to move to the middle of nowhere. He liked his old school, his old friends. He liked the convenience store on his way home that let him buy a can of coke for two dollars instead of three and he liked his neighbour who let him walk their dog. But his father had gotten a promotion, a great one, so the family had packed their bags and moved far out to a place he had never heard of. He didn’t think the problem was with moving away (maybe it was a bit.) but more to do with the dullness which the town lived in. It seemed to be permanently set in grey skies and quiet chatter, everyone knowing everyone, interesting happening never. There was nothing here for him to waste his time on, for him to distract himself with. His mother told him it was because they had just gotten here and he hadn’t had the time to truly explore the town but he didn’t think there was anything to explore in the first place.

The lady stopped in front of a brown door, knocking against the wood which swung open to show an old man with too many wrinkles to be of any real interest to Tommy. He was ushered in and greeted by about twenty other faces and he skimmed over them all, none of them standing out to him. They were curious about him, keenly watching him as he introduced themselves and a soft murmur breaking out when the teacher told him to sit by the window. 

He was probably the most interesting thing to happen to them all year and the thought left him feeling sour. He took out his books, fresh and with the spines uncreased as he leaned back in his chair and mindlessly doodled in the corner of his book. The teacher droned on about some book, some composer and some message they tried to spread to make the world a less fucked up place. They talked about the words that had thirty different meanings, each one of a different story about how everything kinda sucked and how everything could be better. Tommy didn’t think it was that complicated. He just thought that the books were by interesting people trying to make the world a little less boring.

And right now as he tried distracting himself with dreary sky, he realised it wasn’t really working.

~

His father had offered to pick him up, it being a new environment for him but Tommy refused swiftly. He was a highschooler after all, he had enough pride not to be chauffeured from school like a child. His father had merely laughed, carefully listing the directions he would have to follow to reach their new house. 

He had been doing a decent job, at least he thought. He walked past the post office without any struggle and stopped by a convenience store which sold the very soda he had been denied for so long. He trekked along the street, eyes looking over the decorated windows of different shops with each one somehow more miserable and empty than the last. He needed to keep an eye out for a green street sign that pointed to Wilfred Street but as his legs started to tire, he grew worried. He didn’t recognise any of the buildings around him from the morning when his mother had dropped him off and his phone wasn’t under any plan that would let him call his parents. He could retrace his steps, that would work but he wasn’t sure how far he’d have to go or how long it would take. 

“Are you alright there son?”

Tommy scowled, turning to see a man, in a striped bucket hat of green and white, hovering at the doorstep of an old shop. The man smiled kindly as he fiddled with the key in his hand and glanced at his watch. He was shorter, the teenager took note of this and puffed his chest in an attempt of dominance even though the stranger’s shoulders were much broader than his own. 

“No,” He frowned, looking around once again before focusing on the other, “I might be lost.”

“In this little town? Well that’s new."

“What can I say? I’m special.” 

“Well, I suppose you could be,” The stranger laughed quietly, a knowing glint in his eye and Tommy found himself a little more curious but remained quiet, “That uniform? Agerboth High? One of my workers goes there.”

He nodded politely as the older man slipped on a dark green coat and tucked an umbrella under his arm. Tommy looked up and was greeted by blue skies without a single white streak, wondering why he would need it. 

“Where are you heading then? I know this place better than the back of my shop,” The stranger grinned, the one people had when they told an inside joke to someone who clearly didn’t understand. The teenager paused, not sure if he wanted to give away his address to a stranger who smiled so much. He was probably a serial killer, Tommy decided, a town this boring had to have a serial killer.

“Shop?” He looked at the small building in front of him, modest and as quiet as every other shop in the street. He tried to peer through the windows and get a grasp of what was on display but he couldn’t make out what it was. Maybe this was where the older man sold the body parts of his victims, that was real gnarly business. Invite customers in with a comforting smile, stab them in the back of the counter, sell the organs to some billionaire who needed them. The teenager looked up to the freshly painted sign which read: Lock and Keys and frowned, it wasn’t as wicked of a name as he wanted.

“I sell doors,” Tommy blinked, reality washing over him as he realised, maybe this man wasn’t as interesting as he hoped for.

“Door? How many people need new doors?” He scowled incredulously but the stranger merely laughed warmly. Maybe there was a burglar, he thought to himself, a burglar who had a habit of breaking everyone’s doors so they came to this man for new ones. Maybe the man before him was the burglar and this was merely a dishonest tactic to pull in customers. He wouldn’t blame him, a businessman selling doors surely had to get his hands dirty if he wanted to keep his shop afloat.

“The interesting lot,” The man offers, readjusting his bucket hat as his eyes smiled knowingly, “You would be pleasantly surprised.”

Tommy frowned, reigning in his imagination, and acknowledged the fact that the stranger before him was probably a sad, old man who had nothing better to do in his life then sell doors. His fingers fidgeted as he asked the other for instructions to his house and to his relief, the shopkeeper answered him with clarity he wished his father had.

“See you around then,” He wished the stranger farewell before turning, tightening the grip on the straps of his bag, “If I ever need a door, I’ll pop by.”

~

His room was still filled with cardboard boxes, some empty, some untouched. His bed was messy from the morning and he had a few random objects on the vanity. The desk wasn’t built just yet and only a few clothes had been put away in the built-in closet. It didn’t really feel like his room, more like a stranger’s room that he was borrowing. The walls lacked the posters of his favourite games and bands, his PC wasn’t set up and the mattress was too stiff. It was hard falling asleep here, not when it felt like it was missing something, something he couldn’t place his finger on.

“How was school?” 

His mother took his bag off the floor as he collapsed onto his bed, face planting into the bed. He groaned, forcing himself to turn around and face her. He wondered what he should tell her, if there was anything to tell. He had gone to school, suffered every minute of it and was now home where he could suffer a little less. 

Tommy had set his expectations low, so low that he was sure that something would break them. All he wanted was something interesting to happen, something that made moving here and away from his old life worth it, something that threatened the usual boredom that followed him around like a curse. Maybe he was being dramatic, he had only been in the town for a week but there was something in the place that was missing and he needed to find it.

“It was fine.” 

~

It was second period Spanish when something finally happened.

Tommy was making paper airplanes from pages of his math book, only half-listening to the teacher who seemed to believe the best way to teach spanish to students who barely knew any spanish was to be constantly speaking in spanish. He was sitting in the middle row, the boy next to him asleep. He hadn’t bothered to learn his classmate’s names yet, it ruined any allure left of them. As far as he was concerned, the girl in the front of the class with braces and glasses too big was hiding knives in her blazer and could kill a man in less than ten seconds. The boy, seated a few seats to the left, was a runaway prince who needed to hide among the mundane for their safety and the boy that they kept giggling at was his bodyguard he was kinda in love with. The boy raised his hand, asking to go to the bathroom and Tommy cursed. He had imagined the runaway prince to have a russian accent.

He knew they weren’t nearly as interesting as he visioned them to be but it didn’t hurt to try make them to be. It killed time, it killed his boredom. Now, if they stopped speaking and ruining his fake versions of them, that would be wonderful.

The door swings open, revealing a boy he hasn’t seen yet lost for breath. He carelessly held a pile of books and if Tommy craned his neck properly, he could see the boy’s bag was ripped. The student, late for at least half an hour, rushed to the teacher and handed over a note. The teacher rolled her eyes, as if this were a common occurrence and the rest of the class murmured.

“What is it this time Tubbo?” The teacher read the note, before letting it fall into a box of other notes that looked exactly the same. The boy, who he assumed was Tubbo, grinned awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck. His uniform wasn’t ironed and the blond was sure that the other boy hadn’t even worn his shirt the right way.

“Work miss,” He answered, scrambling to pull out papers that were half burnt and handed it to her, “Uh, sorry about the homework. The defence attorney for this asshole of a nymph tried to burn it because he thought I was violating some court law. My boss tried to let me out earlier today but the wudgers needed feeding.”

The class erupted into snickers and the boy’s ears flushed. The teacher looked exhausted, pointing him to his seat and Tubbo followed. Tommy stared at him for a good minute, quickly looking away when the other noticed and waved. He was different, the teenager thought as his fingers tapped on the table, it was a bit exciting.

~

He got lost again.

Being lost was a feeling (or state of mind if you were feeling dramatic) he had grown used to. It was easy to get lost, especially when he was surrounded by things as mundane as they possibly could be. It was more fun being lost, then you could find something a bit different just as lost as you. This time Tommy was lost in the school, forgetting to follow the other students to the cafeteria. He wandered through the hallways mindlessly, the sandwich in his bag doing nothing to stir his appetite. He was in no hurry, he didn’t know anyone well enough to need to be anywhere else, he didn’t like anyone enough to want to be anywhere else. He crossed the school courtyard, listening to some stream he had downloaded the night before and sat under a tree.

The grass was slightly damp from the morning dew and the overarching branches of the tree made shade that kept him hidden from the sun. There weren't many other people out in the courtyard and he wasn’t sure how to feel about the silence that filled the playground. He took a bite from his sandwich, chewing mechanically as he tore the grass from the ground. In the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar face approach him.

“Hello,” Tubbo, he was pretty sure that was his name, grinned, “Mind if I sit next to you for a bit.”

Tommy shrugged, scooting away so the other boy could sit comfortably next to him. He watched the other unpack from his bag, not the ripped up one from last period, and take out what seemed like small crystals. The gems were probably as big as his fingertips and in the sun, were pastel colours of pink, blue and purple. Tubbo quickly unwrapped a muesli bar, stuffing into his face before standing up again with his hands filled with the crystals. He also noticed that the other’s fingers and uniform were stained by paint.

“What the bloody hell are you doing?”

“It’s for the ghosts. Did you know that a murder happened here? In this school? It was decades ago and they never found the murderer,” he didn’t stop rambling and started dropping the crystals along the fence that marked the school’s boundaries, “They get angry sometimes, once they made a toilet explode. Bossman says these would calm them down.” 

“W-what?” Tommy blinked and as the other teenager started to walk away, he scrambled to his feet and started following him, “Ghosts? That’s bullshit.”

“That’s what I said,” The other smiled, “But then a toilet exploded the moment I walked out the next day. It was cool actually, it makes you wonder how does a ghost make a toilet explode? How does anyone make a toilet explode-why are you still following me?”

“What do you mean? We were talking, weren’t we?” He scoffed, taking another bite of his sandwich and the shorter boy laughed nervously.

“Well most people stop listening the moment I open my mouth.”

“Why?” Tommy scrunched his nose, “You’re interesting.”

“Oh, I’m really not. I'm boring, really. Average. Normal.”

“That sounds exactly like what an interesting person would say.”

Tubbo laughed, throwing another handful of crystals like they were flower petals. 

“Tommy right? I’m Tubbo.”

“That’s a stupid name.”

“It’s an interesting name.”

Tommy paused, a grin growing on his face: “Well I suppose it is.”

~

It was raining and he didn’t have an umbrella.

The rain fell heavily, the tears thundering down and already making huge pools in the streets. The skies were dark grey and if he spent any longer outside, he was sure that he would drown and that his clothes would spend weeks drying up. The wind howled and his ears started to hurt and grow numb from the cold. He was shivering and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be outside any longer, looking around for some sort of shelter. He noticed the door shop, the same one from when he needed directions and without a second thought, pushed the front door.

The bell rang and the door fell behind him with a smooth click. He realised he was making a mess of the doormat, his soaking uniform creating a puddle on the floor and he scowled. He looked up and his heart stopped working for a moment.

It wasn’t a serial killer’s lair like he had hoped but it wasn’t just a boring, little shop. The inside looked bigger than it did on the outside, the walls being lined with doors of all shapes and sizes. One door was as tall as the ceiling and made of stained glasses and small gems while another door looked as if it were made purely out of flowering vines. In the centre of the shop where shelves with products on display and Tommy walked forward carefully, not touching anything. He passed a jar of eyeballs and fire-red feathered quills which let out wisps of smoke at the slightest vibration. He didn’t think the chandelier that lit up the room was attached to the ceiling and the candles were lit by flames of blue and green. 

“Gremlin child alert,” A voice from behind him made him jump, “Correction, soaking gremlin child alert.”

“Dude, what was that for? I thought you were going to kill me.” Tommy fumed as he turned, greeted by a man who looked like he was in his early twenties and was towering over him by an inch or two. The man is in a yellow sweater paired with a beanie and he frowned at the teenager.

“Why are you getting mad at me? You’re the one who’s making the floor wet.”

He opened his mouth to rebut but was interrupted by footsteps behind him. 

“Wilbur, play nice,” It was the man in the green and white bucket hat, “Oh, hello again. Here for a door?”

“I-you seem to sell a lot more than just doors.” He stared at the water fountain that was somehow flowing upwards and the man was,“I think my head is hurting.”

“Have a boomberry, they’ll help,” The worker grinned, offering a strange fruit which he had never seen before as the other man let out an exasperated sigh and led Tommy to the counter. 

“Do not eat anything he gives you,” He warned the teenager, “Wilbur, man the counter. I’m heading to the back to see if I can get the kid a towel or something.”

Tommy mumbled a ‘I’m not a kid.’ as the older man disappeared, leaving him with the beanie man who smiled at him weirdly. He looked down and shuffled uncomfortably on the stool, playing with his fingers as the other worker hummed to himself. He listened to the sounds of the shop, the clocks which decorated the wall having seven hands instead of three and he swore that the fish in the tank were making frog croaks. He might be hallucinating, something in the rain that made him see things that could not exist and hear things that weren’t possible.

“W-what is this place?” He asked quietly, holding himself closer together due to the cold.

“It’s a door shop,” The worker gave him a lazy smile, “Here, you should really try a boomberry. We just had them picked. Unless you’d rather a wurpleberry?”

“The man in the stupid bucket hat said not to,” Tommy stared at the berries cautiously, as if they would come to life and jump at him at any moment, “I’d rather not turn into a table or something.”

“Nah, Phil is just a killjoy,” The other man, Wilbur if he remembered properly, waved him off, “It won’t turn you into a table, promise.”

“Well why should I trust you?” He snarked as the other’s grin twisted into something more devious.

“Well why should you trust Phil? We’re both equal strangers to you, aren’t we?” The taller man hummed, tapping away at a typewriter that made flute noises with each button, “Unless you’re chicken?”

Tommy, while enough common sense to refuse candy from a stranger, did not appreciate his pride being poked at like that. He puffed his chest to make himself look a little bigger and narrowed his eyes on the other who merely smiled. It irritated the teenager a bit, he wasn’t going to lie and he found his own competitiveness being riled up. He lent out an arm expectantly and Wilbur dropped a few berries in his hand. He threw them in his mouth, biting down and gagged when the juice touched his taste buds. It wasn’t bad, he just hadn’t had anything remotely like it before so the taste was alien to his tongue.

“I’m not a frog?” He murmured, looking at his hands.

“Yet.”

He wasn’t comforted by the sentiment but turned when he heard a shuffle of feet. Phil had come back, in hand some sort of fur cloth and an umbrella. He passed them both to Tommy and went to retrieve something from the drawers. The teenager ran his fingers against the cloth, not recognising which animal print it was. 

“Dry up. You can borrow that umbrella to get home,” The older man said kindly before dropping a few pills into the palm of his hand, “Children don’t seem to listen to me so take those for your face.”

“What? What happened to my face?” He looked in the small mirror on the table, “Why the fuck is my face purple?”

“What can I say? It’s the wurpleberries dude,” Wilbur grinned, “They just want to make the world wurple.”

“Don’t think you're off the hook. You’re in charge of cleaning up the back,” Phil chided as the other groaned, “Come on kid, your parents might start getting worried.”

“Not a kid,” The teenager gulped the pills, struggling to swallow them without water, “I have a name.”

Tommy realised as Phil led him to the front door, he didn’t want to leave just yet. Who could blame him? This shop, it was probably- fuck he felt like a child even thinking about it- was probably magic. In such a boring town, he couldn’t believe there was something like this that existed. He felt a bit dizzy again and he really hoped he didn’t wake up to find out it was a dream. He had so many more questions, so many more answers he needed. 

The man in the green and white bucket hat grinned knowingly as he gently squeezed the teenager’s shoulder.

“You can give that umbrella back when you come by again.”

_When you come by again._

He gripped onto the umbrella, his only excuse to come back to this place, his only proof that this was real. He stepped outside, listening to the rain bounce off the umbrella as he entered a world of grey and dullness. It’s drowning, the rest of the town, in its own gloominess, in its own quietness. He looked back at the shop, hesitant to leave just yet, and he surprised himself with the colour and light that escaped the shop. He breathed heavily, almost lost for words. Almost, Tommy never ran out of words.

“I-uh, my name is Tommy,” He looked down at his shoes and he could hear the other smile, “I’m new in town.”

 _He knows that already_ , he cursed to himself for being an idiot. There was no point reintroducing himself to the man, not when they had already met.

“My name is Phil,” The other offered kindly, “I own a shop that sells doors.”

He looked up when he felt a ruffle of his hair. Phil grinned at him before turning around and going back into the shop.

“Cya around Tommy.”

The door closed with a click and Tommy could feel the hum of excitement in his chest. He turned back to the street and started walking away. 

Door shop his ass.

~

He had been putting off going back to the shop. 

The weekend had rolled by and he was wandering through the park. There weren’t many people and he liked it that way. The park was a street away from the shop and if he wanted to, he could easily visit the building. But he was- apprehensive. The day he had gone into the shop to escape the rain felt a bit like a dream, his memory was a bit hazy and he swore he was on a high of sorts. He shook his head, fiddling with his playlist when someone bumped into him, both of them falling.

He groaned, preparing himself to cuss the living daylights out of whoever just pushed him into the ground. His head pounded and when he opened his eyes, he saw a familiar face with burns down his arms and a nasty bruise on his cheek.

“Holy shit, Tubbo- what happened to you?” He scrambled to help the other up on his feet as the shorter boy leaned on him, “Who beat you up?”

“Not who-what.” He heaved heavily, struggling to say his words, “Dragon, on loose. Bossman is going to kill me-”

“Dragon? No screw that, you need someone to patch you up.” Tubbo tried to take another step forward but his knees gave and Tommy had to catch him. He noticed that the other’s shirt was singed on the edges and cursed as the other let out a pained groan.

“Lock and Keys. It’s only a bit away from here but-” Tommy froze, recognising the name,“Take a left and then-”

“Yeah, I know the place. Try to stay awake. Can you do that for me?” he soothed, looping the other’s arm around his neck as he held the other’s waist, “Tell me about wudgers.”

~

“You’re Tommy right? Phil said to be on the lookout for you,” The stranger grinned, “I’m Sapnap.”

It was a weird name but Tommy wasn’t going to question it, not when he was sitting in a shop which he swore he heard a horse neigh from the back. The other man looked like he was just a few years older than him, brown hair pulled back with a bandanna. Tubbo was asleep on the couch, burns treated with an ointment that smelled terrible and the cuts on his fingers disinfected and bandaged. He hadn’t woken up yet, the other worker who shared the shift with the man before him had said that it would take a few hours. 

“Where is Phil?” Tommy didn’t know either of them. When he barged into the shop, he had expected to be greeted by a green bucket hat or even Wilbur with his infuriating sweater boy aesthetics. Instead he had walked into two strangers, one playing with floating fire and the other patting the cat with three eyes and nine tails. 

“Busy having a life,” The other employer came out of the back with ice packs in hand, “Here, put this on his stomach.”

“That’s George,” Sapnap flicked a bottle cap at the other who scowled, “He’s annoying.”

“Says you.” George pushed his glasses up his nose, staring at Tommy through the tinted lenses, “Did you see a baby dragon near you when you found Tubbo?”

“I-He was serious? There was actually a dragon out there?”

“Tubbo usually takes her out for a walk on Sundays,” Sapnap hummed thoughtfully, “Usually he comes back in one piece. With the dragon.”

“And no one notices? No one notices a big lizard next to a teenager?”

“You’d be surprised how much you can get away here.” George gave him an awkward smile, “Once this idiot let out a swarm of fairies and everyone thought it was snowing. In July.”

“At least I didn’t drown the mayor’s office,” The other mumbled and yelped when a bandage roll was thrown at this, “Abuse. I can have you fired.”

“Why are you not worried?” His voice had grown sharper, “There’s a dragon on loose and you’re not worried?”

Both men looked at each other and shrugged.

“It really isn’t the craziest thing that’s happened here.” Sapnap started, “People usually turn a blind eye when we mess something up.”

“I-this isn’t a door shop, this is some shit out of Diagon Alley.”

“It is though,” The man with glasses frowned slightly, “We make doors, we sell them. And sometimes we go through the doors we make and take some souvenirs.” 

He gestured to the disarray of trinkets and filled the shop and Tommy felt dizzy again. 

“Ask Tubbo about it. He nerds over this stuff like crazy,” Sapnap said as he stood up, George joining him, “You both go to the same school right?”

“Where are you going?”

“We have an errand, it’s on the to-do list,”He pointed at the sticky note on the cashier and twisted the knob on one of the doors on display. The door was decorated with a glass mural of blue and white, snowflakes made out of glitter and silver wires adorning the arch frame. George leant a jacket to the other as Tommy stretched over the counter to read the list they had mentioned, skimming over the crossed out things: ~~clean the counter~~ , ~~walk dragon~~ , ~~feed wudgers~~ , ~~reshelve the left aisles~~ , ~~harvest the mooncakes~~ , collect yeti hair-

He felt a draft, chilly in a way it couldn’t be possible indoors on a sunny day. He turned quickly, in time to see the door fall in place with a click and snow lying at the front where there wasn’t before. He blinked, mind not computing what had happened and then it hit him.

George and Sapnap were gone.

~

“So, you kinda saved my life yesterday.”

Tubbo slid onto the cafeteria table, sitting opposite from Tommy with the school’s pathetic excuse for lasagna on his tray. He had paint over his fingers again, this time even on his bandages and the blond wondered when he had anytime to have hobbies like art when he was busy chasing dragons and dealing with the boring hell known as school.

“Well, I’m sure with enough desperation, you would have managed to crawl your way to the shop,” He replied, not missing a beat, “But I like what it does to my ego.”

“Probably,” The other grinned and he could feel his own face splitting into two, “I just need a reason to pop by and ask a favour.”

“Interesting people are always welcomed at this table.” 

“Does working at a magical door shop and walking dragons while my mum’s at church good enough for you?”

“Hm, barely.” Tommy hummed as the other laughed, “What did you want?”

“Uh, let’s just say there’s a missing dragon in town and someone needs to find it before Phil fires me-them which I don’t think he would ‘cause he’s too nice but he’s the type of guy you really don’t want to disappoint and-”

“Wait you haven’t found the dragon yet?”

Tubbo winced, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I was kinda asleep all of yesterday. Also George and Sapnap are evil, man. Evil.” He shook his head, “I was kinda wondering if you would help? I mean you don’t have to-”

“I want to know how the doors work,” Tommy interrupted, “I’ll help you and you show me.”

“I can show you today, after school. I don’t have a shift but I need to pick up a few things anyways,” The other boy grinned, hands waving around excitedly, “It’s so cool, you’ll love it.”

Tommy had no doubt he would.

~

He realised as he watched a white chess piece absolutely demolish another, that he had to stop being so surprised each time he had walked into the shop. Tubbo didn’t seem to give it any concern, waving at the two people playing murderous chess and disappeared to the black. One of them was in a neon green sweater and a paper plate mask while the other had what looked like a plastic crown and red robes fit for a victorian king. They gave him no thought, concentrating on the chessboard between them as he stood there awkwardly, waiting for Tubbo to come back.

“That’s a risky move Dream,” The taller man said, tucking stray strands of pink hair behind his ear as he ordered his knight to move. The chess piece moved on its own accord, disintegrating the rook in its way to ashes. The masked man hummed as Tommy wondered how he saw through the paper plate, sending his bishop into battle as it flicked the knight off the table.

“Three moves till checkmate.”

“Victory goes to the one in plot armour.”

“Which is me.”

“The paper plate has clearly rendered you blind.”

“Look again, the hypotenuse won’t save you this time.”

“This is fine, this is so fine-”

“Have either of you seen my paint brushes?”

Tubbo reappeared from the back and in his hand where three buckets of paint: red, orange and yellow. The blond stepped forward to help him carry two of them and was thanked gratefully. He watched the other rummage in the drawers and was worried if one of the pawns would explode with the other so close but sighed in relief when he came back to his side without a scratch.

“What’s up with them?” He murmured as the other led him past the counter and through a door which he assumed led into storage. 

“Techno and Dream, they’re really cool,” Tubbo scrunched his nose as he tried to open one of the cans of paint, “Though I don’t know if they’re friends half the time. Once I walked in on them both half-bleeding on the floor for some duel.”

“Right,” He started slowly as the other teenager moved a shelf to the side, revealing a blank wall, “What are we doing?”

“Making a door.”

Tommy blinked, watching the other dunk his brush in the red paint and leave broad strokes on the wall. He started with an arch, barely tall enough for the blond, and then started to paint the inside. He dipped his brushes in the yellow and orange, painting small accents that resembled flowers and flames on the door’s frame. Tubbo gestured to the black paint which had already been opened and then to him.

“Go on, I’ll take care of the rest, you do the doorknob.”

“The what?”

“Doorknob,” He took note of how the other’s fingers were already stained in paint, “We need a way to open this door right?”

Tommy hesitantly took the brush, watching the hairs coat themselves in the black paint. He hovered the brush in front of where the knob would usually go and wondered what he should do. He wondered if it mattered, if he did those long handles or even those fancy engraved ones. Like a child, he twisted his wrist and made a circular motion, watching as the black circle seemed to grow out of the wall and into a sphere which he could twist.

“Is it push or pull?” He muttered and the other grinned.

“Push. Always push.”

Carefully, he let his fingers wrap around the handle- the metal slick under his skin as he twisted it. He heard a click and his breath hitched as he slowly pushed against the door. The wet paint clinged to his uniform but it really didn’t matter when the door moved, revealing something behind what was twenty minutes ago, a solid wall.

“My fucking god,” Tommy found it slightly hard to breathe, his heart pumping undeafeningly as his skin hummed, “We just painted a door.”

“Hurry up,” Tubbo laughed, “This is only part of it.”

_Part of it-_

Tommy grinned, letting the door swing wide open as a warm breeze hit his face. There was another light from behind the door, from a sun that he didn’t recognise in a sky he had never walked under. There are flowers he didn’t think existed back in the boring, little town and his ears played the melody of flowing water. 

It was another world, behind a door he had just painted. It was real as he took a step forwards and the ground below him didn’t give out but instead held him. Tubbo ran ahead, singing some stupid song with a ridiculous grin while he still clutched onto the doorknob. The other started rambling, something he had gotten used to fondly now, about the dragons that lingered in the rivers, the fairies that would come by when the day fell. He listened, letting go of the door hesitantly but refusing to look back as the other dragged him in closer.

Tommy was in another world and he-

“We need to get some boomberries and maybe some wudger honey. Dragons love those.”

He didn’t want to lose this.

~

The next time he walked into the door shop, Tommy was by himself.

There was no rain he needed to hide from, there was no classmate that was about to pass out, there was no dragon that needed catching. There was just Tommy, who wanted to come back and found an excuse in an umbrella. The shop was quiet, no workers arguing as they handled magical potions that could very much burn the world, no smiling freak who offered him berries that made his face purple and no magical creatures that had refused to go back into their worlds.

“Tommy, it’s been a while.”

Phil was sitting by the cashier, surprisingly on his phone. The older man looked up and offered him a smile, gesturing to him to have a seat.

“Is it just you today?” He asked quietly as the other nodded. A silence fell awkwardly between them and he took feign interest in the walking tarot cards when he realised the other was waiting for him to speak. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know why he came here in the first place and-

“I brought back the umbrella that you gave me- the day it rained?”

Phil took it from him, watching his face carefully. Tommy wondered what he was looking for, what it was that he was trying to find. He looked down at his feet, kicking the dust on the carpet mindlessly.

“You know, Tubbo works the Friday shift by himself.” Phil started, already with his back turned, “I’ve been meaning to pair him up with someone but no one’s been free.”

He looked up immediately and the other sent him a knowing smile. His cheeks flushed in embarrassment and the other laughed, ruffling his hair.

“I don’t usually hire teenagers but tracking down a dragon makes a pretty solid resume,” He continued, shuffling some papers, “What do you say? Four o’clock Friday?”

Tommy didn’t have a single reason to say no.

**Author's Note:**

> 'lo,  
> I thought I'd change it up, experiment with Tommy and Tubbo coz I love their dynamic while also practising platonic fics. This was fun and while I know most people who read my fics probably won't see it, I hope the few who do enjoyed it!  
> Also more of the new writing style so pog. It was rrly easy to write and I got a lot of words out each day though I might try be a bit more lyrical.  
> if u want to- don't forget to user subscribe, it's free and you can always unsubscribe later <3
> 
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> 
> xoxo Winter


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